Fireflies
by lastsnow
Summary: Katniss Everdeen has gone missing, leaving her children to unravel the mystery of her disappearance. Is this new society really the paradise they fought for?
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This is my first try at writing fanfiction, so please give any comments you have. :) I'm afraid the story may be slow to start, but I hope it's enjoyable.

This takes place after _Mockingjay_, so be careful if you haven't finished the trilogy yet!

**Summary**: Katniss Everdeen has gone missing, leaving her children to unravel the mystery of her disappearance. Is this new society really the paradise they fought for?

* * *

><p><strong>Fireflies<strong>  
>chapter one<p>

"Miss Mellark… Excuse me, Miss Mellark…."

Head buried in her arms, Miss Mellark was fast asleep on the flat surface of her school desk. Her hologram teacher furiously paced beside her, fists clenching. Every now and then her body's projection would flicker in what seemed like the sheer force of her annoyance.

"Rosa Mellark, if you don't wake up this instant—"

Mrs. Elweather's impotent scolding was cut short by the ringing of the school bell. Rosa was suddenly at her feet, gathering her things as her teacher hovered uselessly. She pressed through the doorway and into the crowded hallway of the Luxen Community School. Though one of the smaller schools in the Capitol, it boasted being left completely intact at the end of the Mockingjay Rebellion. For adults, this meant "prestigious". For children, this meant "ancient".

"_Remember, students,"_ came the chipper voice of Headmaster Luxen over the intercom._ "Tomorrow is Reaping Day, so please bring all homework and animals home with you for the holidays. Don't forget to "reap" some family memories!_" A groan rippled through the student body. Finally, the holiday season had begun! It was time for all Panem citizens to reflect on togetherness and family.

Everyone but Rosa Mellark, that is.

Rushing out the door, she near bowled over her poor brother. Not that it took much. At 13-going-on-14, Terin was tall but still a wisp of a boy, with a cherubic face and golden curls. Even now he stood as if a breeze may blow him over, clutching his school bag the way he used to cling to their mother's leg. It was hard to imagine they were siblings. His pouting lips and soulful grey eyes made adults scrape and coo to appease him, whereas she, at 17, got no such treatment. She was all angles and lines: straight body, straight hair, straight mouth. Adults always said the same thing—"You're your mother's child, alright." By which they meant, smart but completely without any natural charm.

No, all the charm was being hogged by the young man who sought them out like prey. Before Rosa knew it he had his arm around her neck in a friendly hug, grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat.

"Mellarks!" he crowed—that was the only image Rosa could think of when he spoke. "Are you sneaking off without me?" Kye wasn't much for being quiet. It was obvious just by looking at him. Though the Capitol was once known for its crazy fashion and surgical enhancements, few people went around in fur underwear anymore. But Kyvian Emert the First was no stranger to the strange, his name being the least of his problems. His mother, the infamous Octavia Emert, had never given up on fashion (maybe because one can't stop being permanently dyed green). While she'd let her own hair go naturally grey, that didn't stop her from dying her son's locks a bright, eye-searing green.

"Can't say I didn't try," Rosa returned, with a weak smile. Kye might be a lot to handle, but she needed him today. He didn't realize it, but this wasn't going to be a normal holiday. "You're coming tonight, right?"

Kye grinned, and gave her a quick nod.

"And miss our date? Never!" His wink earned a roll of her eyes before he flitted off, horizontal stripes and all.

* * *

><p>By the time they reached home, their father had already been there. His coat was hung neatly on one half of a tall coat rack, and his shoes were the only pair in the doorway.<p>

Even after over ten years of living here in the Capitol, the large house seemed barely lived in. The kitchen was elaborate and filled to bursting with the tools of their father's craft, but there was very little beyond that. There were few pictures on the walls, no fancy liners on the tables or counters. The living room featured a larger than life TV and luxurious fireplace, but not a single flower or pillow.

Only a single painting hung from their father's artist days, a picture of the two children and their mother from years ago. Even then their mother had such a beautiful, but hardened face.

"Rosa? Terin?" Their father's voice called out as they slipped off their shoes. "Don't look just yet." He was in the kitchen, of course, laboring over a cake for tomorrow. It wasn't only Reaping Day, it was also Terin's 14th birthday. As Terin obediently headed to his room, Rosa peered in as her father worked.

It was strange that just that day in school she'd seen his face—from the past, frozen in history. The years had been kind to Peeta Mellark. It was easy to see the boy from the history books in this older man's face. They had the same smirk and the same shining blue eyes, though his hair was more grey than gold these days. His hands were strong and sturdy as they worked. She knew those hands could do, and have done, terrible things, but they had always been gentle with her.

"Rosa." She jumped at her father's sudden word. He smiled slowly, eyes never leaving his work. Of course he knew she was there. He had a sixth sense, almost, for sensing a spying child. "You brought the candles from the bakery on your way home, right?" She froze; he only smiled. "Of course you forgot. I'll get it in the morning."

Watching her father work, Rosa couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. It's vanilla cake, swirled with wild berries, a cake they'd eaten so many times. It wasn't Terin's favorite, though. It was their mother's favorite cake, and for her that their father was working so hard. But as hard as he may work, she wouldn't be there to appreciate it.

She hadn't been there for months.

Katniss Everdeen had disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the kind reviews and comments! :) I'll try to answer any concerns or questions through PM, so don't be shy!

**Summary**: Katniss Everdeen has gone missing, leaving her children to unravel the mystery of her disappearance. Is this new society really the paradise they fought for?

* * *

><p><strong>Fireflies<strong>  
>chapter two<p>

As far as Rosa knew, the nightmares started years ago.

Back in their old home in District 12, she always knew when they began. Her mother's crying kept her and her brother up into the night. It echoed off the walls of their home, crawling under their bed blankets and haunting their dreams.

It slowed down when they moved to the Capitol. There, the night wasn't silent like in District 12. The sounds of the city masked her sobs. For years, Rosa slept soundly. As she grew older, she hardly remembered what it was like feeling so afraid for her mother. The Capitol was safe, everyone said. It was nothing like the Districts, some which had prospered with their new freedoms which others collapsed beneath the weight of war. Nights there were loud but peaceful.

She remembered vividly the last nightmare she ever witnessed. It was sudden, just a scream and an uneasy feeling that kept Rosa shaking as Terin slept on, unaware. She rose from her bed and silently crept down the stairway. She could hear her mother's sobbing, a familiar sound from her past.

Peering from the top of the stairs she could see her parents, their bodies illuminated by a dying fire. Her father held her mother so tightly it almost seemed violent; her mother's knuckles shined white as they hooked around Peeta's arm. They were talking, quietly, and she could only just make out some words, familiar words that she had heard repeated so many times.

"Real or not real?" Katniss had asked, her face buried against Peeta's chest. Rosa couldn't see her mother's face, but she could see her shoulders trembling from behind. "Real or not real?" Katniss repeated, her urgent voice barely more than a hiss.

"Real," Peeta replied, his voice soft—and sad, so sad, something Rosa was not familiar with. Her father was always the positive one at the side of her mother, a bright light in their home. But now he just sounded tired. She could suddenly hear the age in his voice. "Real, real…"

It was then that, suddenly, his eyes darted up to meet Rosa's. She felt her breath catch as he stared at her, eyes hard, a tacit command: this was not her business; this was not for her eyes.

She returned to her bed, but sleep wouldn't come. Her mind kept her awake with an endless parade of questions. None of it made any sense. Her mother had been fine for so long. She had never been very forthcoming, but the house had slept peacefully for years. Was it wrong to assume the worst was over?

She was still wide awake when she felt someone enter her room and sit at the edge of her bed. She recognized the weight. It was her father, perched as lightly as he could to avoid disturbing her, even as he spoke in a whisper.

"There are things about your mother… Things about me…. Things that-" He sighed, and she could hear him running his hand through his hair. It was a long pause before he could continue. "We love you. We love both of you. Even if you can't understand the choices we make…. Remember that."

Rosa didn't move, frozen in a frightened silence. He had never needed to reassure her before. She stayed silent as her father closed the door behind him, leaving her once again in the dark.

Six months later, Katniss would be gone.

* * *

><p>Her brother knocking at her bedroom door woke Rosa from her daydream. She'd been ready for a while now, but she couldn't stop the memories from coming. They seemed more vivid every day. They took some dinner rolls from the kitchen and hopped a transport into the heart of the city.<p>

Leaving their neighborhood sometimes felt like stepping into another world. The bustling urban center of the Capitol seemed too fast, too bright. Everywhere they looked something was glowing, flashing, smiling down at them in radiant colors. There was no such thing as stillness or quiet. Rosa got the impression that everyone was very, very busy and hadn't the time to look at each other, despite some of the elaborate clothing they wore. It made District 12 look obsolete for all its new growth.

Most of this was new, too, really. During the Mockingjay Rebellion, many areas of the Capitol were rendered inhabitable from bombing, flooding and any number of traps that were meant to secure it. Over the years these areas were reclaimed, but by then the Capitol's population had already moved on to bigger and better things. Their numbers suffered greatly, but soon they recovered as families streamed in from the Districts. For years you could freely move between them without a travelling pass, bringing starry-eyed builders and laborers to the Capitol to rebuild and make new lives for themselves.

The city library had stood through two rebellions now with barely a stone out of place. Even in a city of high skyscrapers the old library still towered over the streets, a dark monstrosity of a building that only expanded up, up, up as its floors filled to the brim with books. Rosa felt her stomach churn as the elevator lurched upwards, reaching their destination of the 44th floor in moments. While the study rooms were a sterile white, the lights seemed rather dim; Rosa didn't doubt that many of the college students used these rooms for sleeping rather than studying.

"Here... number 11," Terin whispered, waving her over. He spent more time than a boy his age should in this place. He had no interest in cooking like our father, or shooting like our mother. No, his inspiration was our grandmother and her life in medicine. Not so much healing—he wasn't a people person in the traditional sense— but the making of drugs fascinated him. He tugged apart the pills in the cupboards and spilled their guts on the counters, mulling over the powders within. When his friends were busy with sports or games he was puzzling over a textbook beyond his years, peeking into flower shops for "raw materials". Since their mother disappeared, he rarely came up from his books to breath, burying himself deeper and deeper inside the text.

* * *

><p>This wasn't the first time Katniss Everdeen had run off.<p>

It started back in District 12, when Rosa was just a child and Terin was barely walking. Hunting trips. She left one morning with a bag of fresh baked rolls and a worn old hunting bow, pressing a thumb to Rosa's forehead.

"Take care of your father," she had ordered with mock sternness, before embracing Peeta and stepping out the door. After that it was every few weeks. She'd leave with a small pack and return in a few days, sometimes with fresh game to cook up, and sometimes with only new cuts and bruises.

Rosa didn't know how old she was when she realized her mother's fame. It had been so many years since the rebellion, but now and then a camera crew would show up and ask for some words reflecting on so-and-so's death, or the anniversary of something-or-other. There was always a tension by the end of the interview when, inevitably, they would ask something like: "Are you still considering President Snow's offer?" Rosa only knew President Snow from the TV, a smiling young woman with piercing blue eyes and platinum hair.

"_A new Panem_," Victaria Snow said in her promotional adverts, as the video cut to scenes of her across the districts, posed beside workers and happy children. "_A new future, at any cost."_

Katniss's smile would get a little tighter as she shook her head. It was always their father who answered.

"We like it out here." Peeta was smiling, but not on the inside; little Rosa knew that even at her age. "Besides, after being the Mockingjay, anything else would be a step down, don't you think?" And everyone would laugh until the cameras cut off.

After these times, Katniss would disappear for days. She always said goodbye, of course. "Just hunting," she would say, with a shrug.

When Rosa turned twelve the house next door burned to the ground, nothing left but ashes. The next day they boarded a train for the Capitol, and never looked back.

* * *

><p>They hear Kye arrive before they see him. While others crept politely around the old library's echoing halls, Kye's shoes clicked like hooves as he galloped towards room 11.<p>

"Sorry, sorry, my friends!" His words may say 'sorry', but his face said the opposite. In fact, Kye seemed to be just barely holding in a great secret, sliding into the room with two giant bags on top of his usual one. The first he placed in front of Terin, grinning. "Go on, open it, birthday boy!"

Despite Terin's protests about his **actual** birthday being tomorrow, Kye all but helped him open it. Inside was the most ridiculous item Rosa had seen in a while: a pair of genuine fur underwear dyed a green to rival Kye's hair. Terin's faced looked confused _and_ scandalized, red as a beet.

"My mother says she's bringing them back into style, you know," Kye told him. It was impossible to know if he was serious or not. His expression never changed. "Don't worry, Rosa, I'll make sure she doesn't forget you when your birthday comes around!" Before Rosa could gag, Kye placed the second bag in front of her. "But for now… I think this is what you needed!"

Her eyes went wide. Inside the bag were disks and disks of footage on various formats, some cracked and some bedazzled. Thrown into the bag was a plastic ornament of a small bird. Its gold paint had been scratched off here and there, mostly on the wings. It was a cheap imitation, but Rosa recognized it instantly.

* * *

><p>"She leaves all the time, Rosa," Peeta had told her not a week ago. They were both in the kitchen, loading dishes into the cupboards. "Everyone knows that she loves her hunting. She'll be back in a few days, with something to eat if we're lucky."<p>

Rosa could barely keep from shouting. Instead, she looked down at the dishcloth in her hands with a stare that could set a fire.

"But… you _know_ this isn't the same," she said as calmly as she could, which wasn't very. "She didn't tell me anything. She didn't take her best boots. Her clothes, they're almost all there…"

"And?" Her father was in the same boat, trying but failing to mask his irritation. "Your mother is the most capable woman I know. And you know how much she hates the city." Unlike the other women of the Capitol, Katniss wasn't a socialite. She was always itching to get out and go on vacation. She'd even taken up sewing to keep her hands active, though half the time she only seemed to create knots. Knots, knots, knots, just making knots and bloodying her fingers as she tied and untied them endlessly.

There was one piece of evidence she knew her father could not ignore.

"But… her _pin_." It was a small, gold pin, shaped like the bird of the rebellion: the Mockingjay. It had inspired many copies, and even now the image could be found on vintage merchandise from times gone by. Katniss never wore it, but she always kept it safe at her bedside. Sometimes she would pick it up and run a finger over it, maybe pin it to her chest and look in the mirror, but it always returned to its case on her dresser, too precious to risk losing.

When she left this time, she took it with her.

Rosa slowly turned to look at her father, who stood in silence. She had only seen him like this a few times. His body was rigid, and his hands were tight fists; he dug his nails into his palms, knuckles white.

The next morning her father was smiling again. He didn't bother to set a plate for Katniss.

"She must be on the trail of something big," he told her and her brother as he served them breakfast, bandages wrapped around his hands.

* * *

><p>"It's a lot to go through, isn't it?" Kye said, voice quiet but brimming with excitement. "I was surprised too, because, you know, I had <em>no<em> _idea_! I guess it makes _sense_, since my mother was your mom's stylist. And **this**… you won't believe _this_."

Delicately, as if handling something dangerous, he pulled a disk from a worn case. The only writing on it was nearly scratched off, but Rosa could still make it out, just barely.

_74_.

She held her breath. This video had been made illegal before she was born, out of respect to the dead. Recordings were burned in massive piles, and the original film destroyed from public record.

It was footage from the 74th Hunger Games.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for the kind comments. :) I hope everyone's enjoying the winter season.

I've been having some trouble getting my thoughts to paper. I'm no writer! If anything reads strange to you, please let me know via private message. Thank you!

**Summary**: Katniss Everdeen has gone missing, leaving her children to unravel the mystery of her disappearance. Is this new society really the paradise they fought for?

* * *

><p><strong>Fireflies<strong>  
><em>chapter three<em>

* * *

><p>It wasn't an official video. Whatever Octavia had originally recorded was long gone into the fires with the rest of Panem's Hunger Games memorabilia. What <strong>was <strong>left was her own hasty re-recording, bits and pieces of the Games spliced haphazardly with her own home footage. What was left was enough.

* * *

><p>On screen, a wall slowly came into focus, filmed by a trembling amateur hand.<p>

"Oh, bother," Octavia mumbled from behind the camera. "How do I-" The learning curve was apparently pretty steep. For a second the camera stares into one of her blurry eyes, before swinging wildly.

It finally settled on a young man with dark hair and brown skin. He stood perfectly still beside a table, surrounded by video screens playing the same looping footage. Young girls and boys- the tributes.

"Oh! Oh! I got it! Cinna! Look here!"

The man's eyes flicked over to the camera, and he smiled warmly. He was dressed almost too simply for the Capitol. The only sign of his status was the gold lining around his eyes, giving him just a little bit of drama. The camera bounced around again, catching brief but blurry shots of three others, all looking up at the screens.

"Are you sure you're going with 12?" a brightly dressed young man remarked, as he files his nails almost angrily in front of a screen. "Look at District 1! Natural beauty!" The television played their reaping over and over as the tributes from 1 proudly took the stage. "Now **that's **a tribute!"

But Cinna just shook his head as reached for the control panel. Suddenly, every television showed District 12. Before, they had only seen the drab scenery and even drabber looking tributes. Now they all watched, silently, as a young girl- Katniss- tore through the crowd, crying out to take her sister's place. He paused the screen on that desperate expression and turned to the other stylists.

"Oh, I see!" Octavia finally broke the silence. "It's just so _dramatic_, isn't it?"

* * *

><p>Another jump. Katniss sat perfectly still as the stylists applied the final touches to her face. She looked fierce, for sure, but in this close-up shot it was easy to see the flaws. She was tiny despite her recent meals, just barely on the side of healthy.<p>

"Come on, smile!" someone prompted, and while she turns to the camera her lips don't move. Nothing.

No, no, there was _something _there. Behind her tough look there was definitely some emotion that couldn't be hidden by layers of makeup.

Fear.

* * *

><p>Suddenly, Katniss was on fire. This was the real thing, shot in broadcast quality. Peeta was there, too, shining with a brilliant smile as he gripped Katniss's hand so, <em>so <em>tightly. For the cameras they ham it up, laughing and smiling easily, but every time the camera got too close Katniss looks more like a startled deer, eyes wide and unable to run.

* * *

><p>The shots from the actual games came so fast it's hard to tell what was what, or if they were even in order. One moment, Katniss was standing perfectly still, styled beautifully in her active wear, and then she was running.<p>

_She was amazing._

Katniss tucked away in a tree, skin looking so bright in the early sunlight.

Katniss sitting beside a body and a pile of flowers, raising her hand in a gesture that is cut off abruptly.

Katniss crouching next to Peeta, bloodied and bruised.

They kiss.

And they kiss.

It's a montage of kisses, as they grow dirtier, bloodier, and wearier.

Katniss smoothing Peeta's hair away from his face as he sleeps. But the sleep looks unnatural, and Katniss's expression is determined as she leaves him.

Katniss's hand, full of berries. Juice streams down her arm like blood. She makes her suicide declaration and everything goes black.

* * *

><p>There's a long pause in the video before it starts up again. Katniss looked much more alive, put in a sweet looking dress. Suddenly she looked much younger, frailer, though her eyes still seemed like ice as she glanced into the camera.<p>

"Oh, just smile!" Octavia tells her.

* * *

><p>On the national stage, Katniss is smiling, demure, as she curls against Peeta.<p>

* * *

><p>She's sitting naked on the edge of a wide, Capitol bed, the pretty dress on the floor beside her. Even with all of her styling her body seemed worn, bare skin littered with scars.<p>

* * *

><p>Suddenly, there is a face Rosa recognized. It's Katniss, an adult woman with a tired but loving smile. As she camera zoomed out it revealed a nostalgic scene: their house in District 12 as it was when they all lived there, furnished and busy with people. Katniss is pregnant, giving the camera a weary smile.<p>

"Just take it already," she said to someone, eyes darting from the camera to someone standing just off-screen.

"Just one more," came Peeta's voice as he moved to stand beside her. He put his arm around her and drew her close, pointing at something. "Just one more. Come on, smile. Don't pretend you aren't beautiful."

That made her laugh (even though she rolled her eyes), and there was a flash as a camera went off.

"Just gorgeous!" Octavia cooed and the video camera shook just a little. "You're positively glowing!"

"That should do it," Peeta said proudly, and the video camera followed him to a desk where a large bound book lay open. There were many visible faces on the pages surrounded by unreadable notes and flourishes.

* * *

><p>Rosa paused the video, staring at the screen. That book... She remembered it vaguely from her childhood. It had always been out on the desk, an intimidating object. Sometimes Katniss would flip through it, or add a picture too it; Rosa had been too young to read. Over time it was forgotten, by accident or on purpose, and when they left the district for the Capitol she never saw it again.<p>

"That's it," she said suddenly, standing up.

"The... picture book?" Terin says, after a moment. Of course he couldn't remember. He had been too young when they lived in 12. "I don't remember seeing it. Why would that matter?"

But Rosa knew, somehow. She couldn't place the time of her memories, but they were clear: Katniss opening the book, thumbing through the pages slowly with sad eyes. They grew sadder and sadder every time Rosa remembered it. Sometimes she would see her father bent over the desk to write in it, biting down on his lip a little as he wrote or sketched.

"It wasn't only a picture book," she retorted, but she couldn't say much more about what it_** was**_. All she knew was that for years it had been a focal point in their home, constantly revisited by her parents as they added new photos, drawings, or walls of text. If she could read that now she was sure she could get some clue about what had changed in her mother's life. If she had written just _one_ clue, or pasted down _one _out of place picture... "We have to go."

"To District 12?" Now Kye stood up quickly. "Are you serious? We can't just run off to the middle of nowhere! We have _school _in four days!" While Octavia may not notice his absence, his teachers surely would.

"You don't have to come," Rosa grumbled as she shoved the disk into her bag. "But I just know this is it. I just have to _see_it."

"I'm coming!" Rosa had expected Kye to be up for adventure, sure, but it's Terin who spoke up now. He didn't look very happy, brows knitted together, most likely thinking about all the class he could miss. "If... If this is really going to help, I'm coming with you!"

"Oh, fine!" Kye threw up his hands in mock defeat. He wouldn't be outdone by _Terin_, of all people! "You don't need to say any more. I'm coming, too! But I can't leave looking like _this_."

Rosa could kiss them both, but she just nodded, hugging her bag to her chest.

"We'll leave at noon. Don't be late."

It was going to be a long, long night.


End file.
